Who's To Judge
by carylyne
Summary: Strong-willed but fragile. Bold but delicate. A paradox, a juxtaposition. She meets him; he never knew he could act like this. Rated for language and very suggestive scenes. Hiko Seijuro x OC


**It's so rare to see a story of Hiko Seijuro XIII with romance in it. Well, in my opinion, at least. :D Anyway, there really isn't a main storyline, just some twisted romance and suggestive scenes! But if I feel like it I might expand it to a multi-chapter.**

**I wrote this at 5 a.m. in the morning while I was still up (supposingly) studying for my exams. Do forgive some blatant expressions that could have been better if I made them into subtleties. It's a one-shot, so there isn't much character development, but I'm not really good at updating stuff, so it's better left like this.**

Enjoy!

**Rurouni Kenshin (c) Watsuki Nobuhiro.**

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Hiko Seijuro the thirteenth was a truly magnificent sight to behold in person. Despite having heard about him, it was an experience in itself to take him in, in all his rippling, majestically built glory. The superman himself was standing there in his cloak as usual, leaning against the doorframe of his home casually, his arms crossed, eyes sharp and keen.

I walked straight up to him without hesitation, my gait steady and strong, but light and quiet all the same. Never, for once, did his gaze waver, and I returned his appraisal, my eyes never leaving him for a fraction of a second. I saw the muscles in his arms flex as his eyes flashed with wariness and cautious observation at my arrival. I could almost see my reflection in his eyes, if only I looked carefully enough; My hair was ebony and straight, but I wore it in an elegant twist at the top of my head most times. My eyes were jet black, and basically looked bottomless.

I stopped when I was right before him, and saw him recoil a little at the invasion of his personal space. I almost smirked at his discomfort. His eyes narrowed like he knew I was trying to intimidate him. I said nothing and stood there, staring into his eyes, almost similar to my own. Prolonged eye contact can make one feel more compelled and intimate to another, and it was taking its toll on my delicate emotional sensitivities, but I suppressed it and waited for him to make the first move. I could see his eyes shifting in the same way as mine, but he held fast to his silence.

In a flash, his hand drew his sword swung down towards me; expecting such a welcome, I wielded my own and flourished it upwards, blocking his easily. I scoffed and retracted my katana, sheathing it. He was suitably impressed and mirrored my movements. He held out a hand to me and I took it civilly. It felt warm, and it completely swathed my own; the previous eye contact was taking its toll and I was feeling more than a little inclined towards holding it for a little longer than usual. He seemed to concur.

"Hiko Seijuro," he said by means of introduction. I raised my eyebrow.

"I know. Hayato Shun."

"What brings you all the way here? I certainly don't think it's for my pottery," he questioned, guard back up in his eyes. I easily caught his eyes and smirked again.

"Well, I can say I was directed here by someone you know," I replied coyly, mocking him with my eyes. His eyes narrowed again at the statement, and I could see him mentally run through every possible person who would know where he was and who would send anyone his way. He seemed to find one particular thought highly possible.

"Yup, that's the one," I affirmed, and got bestowed with one of his annoyed looks, brows furrowed, eyes angled and abrasive. The effect of his obvious attractiveness while at it was not lost on me, of course. I let a half-smile lift a corner of my mouth to cover it up. "I'm getting hunted because of him, and he tells me to travel miles to find someone I don't even know."

"Sounds like him all right," he snickered. I flashed a full, genuine smile at him and saw him taken aback, eyebrows raised for a second, and eyes light. I stepped closer to him.

"Let's get in and I'll tell you the story."

"What makes you think I want to know?" he countered, his eyebrows dipping again.

"Oh, you want to. I can see it in your eyes."

He narrowed aforementioned orbs, calculating the chances he was willing to take. He decided it wasn't as bad as he would imagine it to be, and stepped aside. I complied and brushed past him, ignoring a shiver running down my spine as I came into contact with his chest through the layer of clothes. I ignored the thought of doing so without the interference of such clothes as well. I helped myself to his bed and prepared to plop on it, before remembering to land more daintily. I did as such and crossed my legs coquettishly; it was too good a chance to pass up for observation, and what harm could be done flirting with him?

I watched as his eyes slid to the side for a second before he retained his proud bearing and pretended that he wasn't embarrassed in the least. I tilted my head downwards slightly and looked up at him through my lashes, let a playful smile linger on my lips.

"Are you going to just stand there or are you going to get comfortable?" I forced confidence to come through my voice as I acted as though I was the owner of his house. He drew a chair as though getting snapped out of a trance and sat directly before me. Before he could prompt me, I decided to start and make it snappy; I wasn't one for storytelling.

"Okay, long story short, I met Kenshin on his way back to Tokyo. I stayed with them for a while. They got into trouble with the police again, ran away for the sake of the kid and Kaoru or something, and I took care of it. Apparently I sent one of their chiefs or whatever into a coma for a few weeks – " His eyebrow cocked. I grinned, "Come on, he didn't die. Anyway, there's a massive manhunt for me in Tokyo and I told Kenshin some adventure 'would be nice right about now'. The crazy guy thought for a grand total of three seconds and told me to look for his master in Kyoto. So there."

"Apart from your worrying lack of storytelling sense, am I getting the dreadful feeling that I have to spend time in _your _company because you want to have fun somewhere?"

"Right you are."

He sighed, his eyes closed, his eyebrows twitching in annoyance. He snapped his eyes open and looked straight at me. "If I say NO?"

"Oh, don't be like that," I let my voice flow like a tinkling of chimes in the wind. "You can't possibly want me to die at the hands of the Tokyo police, can you?"

His grinded his jaw and gritted his teeth. "I don't know you so I don't really mind."

I sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose it's fine if I go sleep by the waterfall on my own then. If you'll excuse me, I'll be going to find some nice leaves to make my bed for the night."

I stood up gracefully and brushed imaginary lint off the front of my kimono. I bowed politely before him, and noted that he was thoroughly taken aback. I walked around him, not able to avoid touching him due to the confined space; not that I was deliberately trying _not_ to do so anyway. I heard his chair scrape back very slightly as though he was thinking about getting up after me, but stopped.

I ducked past his makeshift door and headed for the waterfall, following the trail of the peaceful, constant sound. It came into view not long later. I decided to leave admiring the view to later and made food the priority, so I drifted into the forest and picked some wild berries as dinner. I meandered back to the waterfall and popped the berries into my mouth while watching the beautiful, cascading water rush down with amazing force.

I finished the berries without paying heed to them and sighed, dropping to sit down on the edge, looking down to find a swirling, forceful current due to the waterfall. I let the wit and the pretense go on vacation for the day and just drew my knees up to my chin. The sun had almost set, and I could feel the loneliness set in. The one thing I hated that I couldn't let go of. I hated to be lonely but I couldn't think about leaving a solitary life behind. It was starting to feel cold, but I ignored it; it was already something that I had to get used to being alone, wandering around Tokyo. But somehow, it was colder here.

I tucked my hands into my sleeves and just stared absently at the waterfall, my mind drawing a blank. I let my senses shut down and my consciousness wander freely without taking heed. It wasn't until I saw the light of a lantern at eye level that I realised I wasn't alone.

I squinted past the sudden bright light, but I knew who the bearer was. I looked at his chiseled profile for a second before simply setting my head back on my knees. My body was resisting company. He didn't seem to mind and sat himself down next to me, placing the lamp on his other side.

I didn't say a thing or turn to look at him. The weight in my chest was getting heavier with the darkening of the sky; it was almost a conditioned response. I closed my eyes against the onslaught, but I could still feel his intense gaze on me.

"Go away," I muttered still with my eyes closed.

"You should get indoors, it'll get colder later," he replied, sounding almost guilty. I didn't reply, and he paused for minutes before trying again. "I thought you were joking, but I guess you've got nowhere else?"

His words rang true to the very marrow of my bones, a cold but stinging slap.

"I suppose," I replied laconically.

I could feel the frustration in his voice as he tried his best to breach the walls around me. It helped to get my spirits up just a little that he cared at all.

"What is it?"

I pondered my answer. "I've been alone my entire life. I learnt swordsmanship on my own, and I wandered around Tokyo for all my eighteen years. I got around to thinking I couldn't socialize with a huge crowd of people after all, and escaped here."

"Solitude?" he prompted, knowingly.

"Mmm. I can't help it. I…" I struggled to continue, finding it hard to speak, much less with a stranger, but I wanted to _talk _to someone, to _trust_ someone… someone like Hiko Seijuro. "I've never not been alone. I can't get over it, even if I try to. Everything, my sharp words, and the way I act, pushes people away… And I'm so, so tired…"

I trailed off and decided that I couldn't speak anymore. He listened stoically throughout my long struggle, and I knew that he could relate to it. I angled my head towards him and saw his heartbreakingly sorrowful expression in the watery light. I closed my eyes again; his own solitariness added on the melancholy weighing on my heart, but at the same time, it gave me comfort, comfort that someone felt the same as I did. My thoughts floated away on the cold breeze and I felt my consciousness slipping away, and welcomed its frigid embrace.

----

I felt a pair of strong hands tug at my shoulders and out of instinct, I drew my sword at lightning speed. It was met with a loud clang as it clashed with… I only just barely awoke when I noticed the unmistakable sculpted chest. Releasing my stance, I sheathed it just as quickly out of habit. I almost fell backwards in exhaustion, realising that I had been walking without a break for almost thirty hours before reaching his place. He caught me before I could concuss on the floor. I felt his embrace – perhaps it wasn't, but I felt like he held me to him for a second longer that he needed to brace me against him – and he started ambling back to his house. It felt so secure, so safe, in his arms that I settled my head against his shoulders and relaxed completely.

----

I woke up to the soft, warm futon, a feeling I was still unaccustomed to. I sat bolt upright and let my sharp eyes do their work for my brain. The sight filtering through reminded me of where I was and I turned my head to find him laying against the wall, one leg bent and corresponding arm draped on it. His face was smooth, apart from the slight frown that didn't seem to dissipate most of the time. I took the time to look carefully at his features – his angular jaw, carved nose and high, proud cheekbones. The light from a fire beside him threw shadows over his profile and made him look older than usual. Wait, didn't Kenshin say his master was over forty? I realised with a jump that he really wasn't anything like the twenty-something he looked. It didn't make him any less attractive though.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I shot upright out of habit and waited for the blood to rush through my head. I winced. I parted the makeshift door and trotted out, careful not to make any noise at all. Once outside, the cold hit me in the dawn of early morning; I shivered, but quickly shook it off. Spotting a huge bucket, I grabbed it and headed down to the quieter stream down the hill, walking briskly but still silently through the vegetation.

I knelt by the stream and cupped my hands, taking a share of the water. I splashed it quickly it at my face and woke up from the crystal clear, sweet, fresh water. I undid my hair, letting it all tumble down over my shoulders. I untied the silk obi from my kimono and stashed it on the ground. Lifting the kimono fabric delicately away from my body, I drew my arms away from the long, floor-length sleeves, and folded it neatly and placed it by the other items on the bank. I removed my undergarments and dipped them in the water to wash. Scrubbing them clean, I set a small fire to dry the cloth. I stepped in the water.

"Fuck," I hissed. The water was freezing cold. I felt like I was stung a million times over by the bone-chilling water. I treaded around in the water for a bit to warm up my muscles. I dipped my head into the water and wet my hair, running my fingers through it to let the water reach my scalp. I plunged into the cold water over and over until I was satisfyingly refreshed. I burst through the surface of the water, standing fully with the water up to mid-thigh, and rubbed at my face to remove the water from my eyes.

I saw his commanding figure standing right before me and bit back a yelp. I shot him a dirty look, his eyes watchful and acute. I didn't find it to be in the least perverted though. I grimaced and turned around, effectively showing him my derriere, though that was probably an improvement over… well.

I cantered my head back and narrowed my eyes at him as he stood unyieldingly, arms crossed before him like a casual spectator; his eyes betrayed him as they shone with a fire that was further fanned by the lightening sky. I smirked.

"Like it?" I baited him. A zephyr breezed past and I involuntarily shivered from the chill that clung on to the crystal-like beads on my pale, creamy skin. I sighed and removed myself from the stream, purposefully ignoring him; it made it less awkward for me to climb out and grab the rough cloth. I deftly wrapped it around my hourglass figure and deliberately stuffed the end of it into my cleavage, and grabbed my sword before walking expressly towards him. His arms now hung by his side and his fingers twitched towards his katana.

I reached him and examined him without his mantle. His shirt clung to him as his well defined body threatened to burst out of it. Using my sheathed katana, I coaxed his shirt open, running it down the length of his abs. His shudder didn't go unnoticed. I taunted him with a look. His upper body was now fully exposed in the front, and with a nifty swipe of my katana, his shirt fell off his willing self.

"Like it?" he echoed, his voice husky with sleep and perhaps, lust. I unsheathed my katana and drew a line down the middle of his perfectly symmetrical chest and abdomen, heavy enough for the cold metal to be felt clearly, but light enough so it wouldn't cut his skin. His heavy breathing wasn't missed in the hush of the morning. I smirked and put my sword away, turning around to walk back to the bank of the stream to pick up my kimono. He caught my wrist in a swift motion and drew me tighter to him, his eyes burning into mine with intensity. He dipped his head sharply down towards me, and – I let myself flinch before I could help it.

I snapped my eyes open and saw his triumphant smirk. Damn. it.

"Can't resist me, can you?" he barbed smartly. Scowling, I elbowed him in the naval hard enough that he let me go; the towel snagged on his body and fell off mine. I decided to mock him back and unthinkingly pressed my front in all its glory on him. His sharp intake of breath elicited a smug smile on my lips… before I realised how damn good it felt on his honed, sharply defined body. I quivered lightly and I could just feel his arrogance roll off him. I rolled my eyes and shakily snatched the towel back, turning to my drying clothes without looking back at him. His quiet chuckle was soft, but loud enough for him to know that I would hear it. Damn him and _that body._

I huffed and ignored him once more, drawing the undergarments and the soft, precious material back on my lithe figure. I skillfully tied and looped the obi around before pivoting around in his direction. He had an amused glint in his eyes and I made no comment, my brain still a little woozy from the skin contact. I noticed the bucket laying by the stream, playing witness to our entire charade, and picked it up, dumping it in the direction of the water, filling it up.

"I'll do it," he said, his voice a drawl, still in that deep, throaty voice that made my skin crawl with anticipation. I held the bucket securely before bracing myself and standing up. He turned towards me but I flatly refused to look at him in his muscled marvel and stalked off. The sound of his laugh carried in the light air and I gritted my teeth. However, just a little, the timbre of his voice lifted my drowning heart and somehow, I felt like I was not lonely anymore.

----

I was making dinner in his sparse kitchen while he sat outside playing around with his kiln. I went out a while ago and threw my sword at a passing animal, unearthed my sword, cleaned it, and dragged the animal home, all in under five minutes. His eyebrows drew up, mirth kindling in his eyes before the fire, and I decided to give him a smile. He returned it intuitively, then looked surprised at himself. I smirked and disappeared into the kitchen to throw something together.

He drifted in when the sun started setting, sitting at his small table, waiting. I chanced a look back at him and found his keen eyes roving restlessly around the interior. Setting the huge portion on the plates, I skipped over daintily and placed it before him, feeling very domestic goddess at the moment.

He seemed to like the portion size. I sat before him and cut the meat delicately, while he simply wolfed it down without hesitation. It was still nice to see a man with a good appetite, who didn't look half bad doing it either. I forked a mouth and set it down, pushing the plate away so I could place my elbows on the table. Supporting my head on my fists, I watched as he fetched two ochoko and placed them on the table. He set a large jug of sake on the table and filled the two expertly. He looked up at me briefly, then pushed an ochoko in my direction.

I cocked a half-smile. "Seijuro-sama," I teased in a simpering tone, addressing him by name for the first time, startling him. "Did you know that I'm barely nineteen?"

He looked unperturbed. "I don't care, you don't need to be legal to drink here. There's nobody here to judge what we do."

I grinned widely at him, "Yeah, I know." I knocked back the ochoko and sighed, feeling the warmth slip down my throat and into my stomach. I noticed that the sky was already dark. The sly sinking loneliness was spreading through my chest. I sighed and my eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you suffering from a split personality or something?" he stated abruptly and I frowned up at him. "In the day, you're like some wildfire, catching on like you're combustible. At night you look like you lost your soul."

I heaved a sigh once more. "Well… like I said, it's something that I can't escape from. But no, I don't have a split personality."

He refilled my ochoko and I downed it again. He looked more impressed than he should. I scrunched up my face and glared at him a little, feeling better with his proximity. "What, were you just expecting me to get drunk?"

"Yup," he replied unabashedly. I scoffed a little, slightly amused at his frankness. I stood up and scooted my chair right next to his.

"What are you doing?" he asked noncommittally, downing his fifth ochoko. I helped myself and followed his action.

"Sitting next to you helps," I replied, matching his truthfulness. I downed two ochokos in succession. I felt his fiery gaze on me and I turned up to smile at him. He appraised me seriously and I looked down, not feeling up to being rebellious. A thought occurred to me, and I murmured, "I'm really sorry I'm intruding."

"Hmm."

Silence permeated the house, punctuated only by the regular clink of the sake jug on the ochoko, the sound of setting the glass on wood, and his deep, even breathing. I polished off ochoko after ochoko, and yet, the cold kept creeping back.

I shot him a look and witnessed that tragically beautiful look on him that suffocated my heart last night. Without thinking – maybe it was the sake – I laid my head on his strong, solid shoulder. He started. Somehow, the cold started to dissipate and I could feel the warm effect of the sake; how long has it been since I deliberately sought comfort from the touch of a human being?

He relaxed and poured himself another ochoko of sake, careful not to move abruptly so as not to dislodge me. I bit my lip in a smile. I lay there for a long time, not moving, not speaking. It was only much later when he shifted very slightly in his seat that I realised I had been absently stroking his thigh. He didn't complain though, and I didn't feel like stopping the reassuring warmth.

Some time later, he easily lifted me, earning a sleepy yelp from me, and set me on the futon. I felt him shift to leave, but I grabbed his wrist almost desperately. It hit me how pathetic it must have looked, so I released him immediately. He got the hint though, and sat back down next to me. I sat up and stared intensely into his eyes, meeting an equally impassioned gaze. Throwing everything to instinct, I lunged forward and circled his waist, nestling my head in his chest. He hesitated, his heart beating wildly, hands quivering – as though he had forgotten how – before folding me tightly to him. Desperate, anguished, desolate, we clung to each other, savouring the foreign sensation of human contact and solace.

----

Two weeks passed. My interesting observation subject was the first and foremost on my mind at all times. I could feel his eyes follow me around sometimes and it made me happy. At night, it didn't seem as cold anymore with him laying near me.

We hadn't mentioned a thing about that night, but only accepted it in action. At night, I always ran to him. I always sat by him. I always held his arm. And he would reciprocate by embracing me briefly each time, his impassive face clearing just slightly for me to see behind his eyes… his affection. I would sleep against his chest each night, feeling his well-trained muscles shudder under my touch.

I had a feeling that I was falling into a self-fulfilling prophecy of having a split personality, because in the day I was always, always back to being sharp to him and teasing him.

He was sitting on the futon, relaxing away the uncharacteristically warm afternoon, when I decided I wanted to test his limits, just for the heck of it. I took off my kimono slowly before him, teasing him. He was looking at me with the eyes that I was so accustomed to seeing – razor-edged, searing. When I was left in my white, translucent undergarment, I sat next to him, so close that I was practically sitting on him. His breathing was heavier than usual, but I figured that could also be due to the heat.

I flipped so I was sitting above him, straddled across his lap, right above his manhood. His eyes remained trained on me as I dipped my head forward and in one fluid motion, nipped on his neck. His hips bucked, and I smirked into the crook of the sensitive area as his hips crashed upwards into me. He was going to lose this time. I ran my hands into his surprisingly silky hair and tugged on the ponytail, exposing more of the delicate skin. I bit on it and he drew a ragged breath, clamping his hands over my derriere. I jolted a bit on him at the sudden contact and a low growl escaped from his throat.

Without hesitation this time, he plucked me from his lap and threw me on the futon, his eyes ablaze with unadulterated desire. It was now clear, the lust that he had tried to keep in check all through the two weeks I'd been there. And it made my blood rush with excitement, and my head giddy with heat. He was between my legs, his raging hard-on barely rubbing on me, his teeth tearing at the white undergarment; I responded by arching upwards and closed the space between us. I tugged my hair free, and it spilled over the futon in a beautiful, inky flourish. He let out an uneven breath and stared at me for a second before moving in to capture my lips with his.

It was surprisingly gentle, and I strained upwards, meeting his lips with a little more force. He reacted by deepening it, making my heart thump crazily for a second before stopping and going crazy again. My head spun and I reached for his smooth face, drawing him in deeper and deeper. I arched my back up and grinded against him and he groaned.

"Damn it," he panted, restraining himself visibly. "What the fuck, you're not even of legal age."

"There's nobody here to judge us," I repeated back to him, my voice a raspy whisper. His eyes widened but he pulled back. My heart stalled and sunk into my chest, as though the night had come early.

He stood up unsteadily, his eyes shaded by his beautiful fringe. I struggled to contain the hurt in my heart at the assumed rejection, and I feared that he would ask me out of his home after this. Was it my fault? Was it…?

"Sorry, Shun," he said, his voice low and throaty. I realised it was the first that that he had called me by my name. It sounded nice on his lips… But he was turning away, leaving the place, and his rapid footsteps faded down into the forest.

----

I sat at the cliff by the waterfall, still dressed in my white undergarments. The sun was setting, and it was the worst ever day. Even worse than the time when I got slashed in the back when I got careless, or when I found the scar couldn't completely fade. The tears, which I hadn't shed since I was maybe four, were hightailing it out of my system, and I shuddered, racked with noiseless sobs. I couldn't even make a sound. Even though I knew what he did was for my benefit, and because he was a true gentleman, it still stung like a personal rejection against me.

The tears stopped coming when it got completely dark; there just wasn't any left. The moon was full tonight, I noted.

I missed the comfort, the safety, and the warmth of his embrace and his unspoken caring. The cold was skulking around and the wind was aiding it to assault me physically. Thoughts kept chasing itself in a messy, disoriented circle in my head; _It was definitely my fault. I should have been less rebellious. I shouldn't have angered him… it was my fault for coming here and intruding on the quiet that he wants…_

I saw a lamp at eye level and felt as though I was hit with a déjà vu. I then remembered that it was the first night I was here, that he came here, just like that, and swept me up in his warmth and his ardour. I let my gaze drop and he set the lamp down on the floor. He dropped to a knee and resolutely enfolded me into his cozy heat. I let myself melt into him, and the previous misgivings that I had disappeared like popped bubbles into the air.

"Sorry for leaving you alone at night," he breathed. I shook my head weakly, and opened my mouth to apologise, but he shushed me gently. "Listen, I've been thinking. And I… I don't even know how to say this," he stumbled over his words and I strained to hear him clearly. "Look, Shun…" I quivered at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue, the quiet susurrus stirring an unbidden feeling. "I love you."

I was shocked silent for a second. He enveloped me tighter to him, and I regained my senses. I turned my face upwards, still snuggled in his imposing chest and wrapped my arms around his slim waist.

"I love you, Seijuro. And I don't give a damn if I'm old enough."

He cracked a smile and tilted my chin up, and placed his lips tenderly on mine. He drew away slowly, and caressed me.

"I know. That's what I thought. And I don't give a damn what others say either. So stay here, Shun."

I held him tighter to me, and didn't let go, not at all, for the entire night bathed in the silvery, heartbreakingly beautiful moonlight.

* * *

**3**

**Do excuse the protagonist, she's a little fragile and unstable. HAHA. Anyway, if you couldn't grasp her character, she's actually being selfish and acting all weird to cover up her own weakness. But due to some circumstances, e.g. being alone in the dark for long periods at a time travelling around, she's afraid of the dark, and it makes her feel lonely.**

**Okay, you can go re-read to grasp her again. :D**


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